


The Spy Game

by ZenyZootSuit



Category: The Spy Gone North (Korean Movie), 공작 | Gongjak | The Spy Gone North (2018)
Genre: A Distinct Lack of Human Rights, Canon Compliant, Developing Relationship, Dubious Consent, Espionage, Explicit Sexual Content, Ideology, M/M, Politics, The Author Regrets Nothing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:48:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25053409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZenyZootSuit/pseuds/ZenyZootSuit
Summary: When Park Suk-young agreed to become a spy, he had no idea exactly how much it would cost him.
Relationships: Park Suk-young/Jong Mu-taek, Park Suk-young/Ri Myung-un
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	The Spy Game

**Author's Note:**

> I have absolutely no excuse for this other than to say I love Ju Jihoon in uniform and enjoy writing gay smut and angst. And also politics, ideology, and espionage. Cheers!
> 
> A special thanks to Raiya for watching this movie with me, gay reddit for smut help, and the testimonies of gay North Korean defectors for Mu-taek's character. While I definitely took liberties with his character, I hope it's still believable

*******

_Jong Mu-taek first learned the word ‘homosexuality’ in a street market in the bowels of Beijing at the age of 33, and it was as if a veil had been lifted from over his eyes._

_Why he had not been happy with his wife —whom he married quite young, why he did not find joy in the affairs officers of his position were encouraged to have, why all of his fellow comrades seemed to revel in them and thought him so very strange that he didn’t, why seeing some of his male comrades in uniform made him feel so very hot even on cold days, made his heart race even during the most boring of meetings…_

_A lifetime of feeling broken and it all made so much sense now. For a minute, he was relieved._

_Then reality set in._

_It would have perhaps been easier had he never known because now that he did, he could not get it off his mind._

*******

Perhaps Park Suk-young should have thought this one through a bit better.

Perhaps he should have stopped the minute they said ‘actually ruin your reputation and entire future before embarking on this mission that has a high chance of getting you killed’. Perhaps he should have thought that a bit fishier, a bit more manipulative, than he initially did. But he did not. At the time, he believed the good of his country was more important than his future, that his good work would be rewarded.

(Two decades later, he would laugh at that until he cried.)

The project was years in the making. He spent two of them ruining his life to throw off his North Korean counterparts and another building himself and his business back up. A solid 9 months he spent in fucking China after that to arrange the infiltration itself.

_This better fucking work._

He hadn’t been lying when he said he hated it there, hated the food, struggled with the language, and abhorred the smell (he never wanted to taste exhaust fumes on his tongue ever again). But his efforts had not been in vain, and here he was: in a hotel meeting with North Korean senior officials.

The one would be a problem, he realized right off the bat as he overshot his boisterous character to give himself a chance to size up the room. The Director Ri seemed to be buying his charade as of yet, as did the other agents, though he wasn’t entirely sure if their opinions matter or not. Likely not, the more he considered it. Which left that one. The tall one. The one sizing him up like a predator would its prey.

Fuck.

That one— his name was apparently Jong Mu-taek— blatantly did not trust him. His tone was calm and quiet, occasionally so much so that Suk-young had to strain his ears to hear it, but behind it was an undeniable, unshakable surety and he was clearly certain that Suk-young was full of shit. Suk-young would have to lay it on thick. Especially thick, since he was also largely unimpressed by the intelligence Suk-young had brought in.

So he played up the boisterous, slightly dim-witted businessman who didn’t really know what he was getting himself into (partly true) and who only cared about the money he stood to make. After a pause and a quick nod, the officer seemed to at least believe the intelligence report, which calmed Suk-young’s racing heart ever so slightly.

Until the man stripped off his coat and he laid eyes on the weapon tucked under his arm: a sobering reminder of the risks associated with what he was doing and what would become of him if he did not convince this officer as to his motives.

His work was not done yet.

 _Patience_ , he told himself as the man grilled him on his intentions. It was this man’s job not to trust a soul seeking to set foot in North Korea. Persistence and consistency would be key here. If he kept up his charade solidly, the man would have no choice but to eventually believe him.

“I’m here to make money!” he quipped with a wide smile and the most annoying tone he could muster, grabbing a lighter as the officer reached for a cigarette.

At first he read the look with which he was fixed as one of profound dislike, something which strained the edges of his smile ever so slightly as his mind scrambled to readjust—

Then the man grabbed him by the wrist as he lit the cigarette held between his lips, thumb swiping over the inside of it as the officer’s eyes blatantly traced up and down Suk-young’s form.

Oh.

_Oh._

The entire interaction lasted no more than a matter of seconds, the length of time it took to light a cigarette, but to Suk-young the pause seemed like an eternity.

Now _that._ That was very interesting, wasn’t it?

 _That_ could potentially be useful. _Very_ useful.

*******

_It had cost him nearly half a month’s pay to get it smuggled in to him. Pornography._

_It was illegal, yes, but only if you got caught and in this business, he was the one doing the catching. As a security officer, he knew who the smugglers were and where they operated. He turned a blind eye to it so long as it was profitable to him._

_And he would continue to do so, he reminded the smuggler in front of him now, so long as the smuggler brought back what he wanted. But the smuggler did not understand what it was he was asking for. Mu-taek told him to ask his Chinese supplier._

_Such a thing would cost him, the smuggler came back with a few weeks later, as it was not easy to find even in China. They might even have to look elsewhere._

_Mu-taek paid for it._

_He paid for it because he needed an outlet, one that wasn’t staring at his fellow officers across the room from him, wondering how their bodies might look under their uniforms, how their hands might feel on his skin. It was distracting, and he couldn’t afford to be distracted. Even as he fisted his cock hard enough to hurt in the bathroom late at night, imagining everything he could, it just wasn’t_ enough _._

_He needed more._

_He waited until his wife was gone one evening to watch the bootlegged tape. He had a bit of trouble getting it geared up, his hands shaking in anticipation and more than a bit of desperation._

_But it was worth the wait, he thought as he watched the two men on the screen rut together, unable to tear his eyes away. It was well worth the money. Finally he could put a word, an image, to the things he had been craving for so long. He came harder than he ever had in his life, vision whiting out with the force of it._

_He hadn’t known anything could feel so good._

_But he shouldn’t have bought that fucking tape. He should have left well enough alone is what he should have done. Because it wasn’t long before that video and his hand ceased to be enough. He wanted more._

_*******_

This was to be expected. Being patted down like livestock on sale at the market every time he walked into a room. He had been expecting this. It was still fucking nerve-wracking.

Director Ri apologized for the inconvenience and Suk-young nodded his stiff, slightly nervous understanding as the businessman would.

 _I’m fucking good at what I do_ , he reminded himself as they scanned him and all of his belongings for bugs. _I prepared for this. There is nothing for them to find._

He made a slightly lecherous comment to the young female agent in keeping with the businessman’s laissez-faire, pleasure-seeking attitude towards life. Then he took his place at the table.

The security officer did not buy his excuse as to why he stopped drinking (it had been necessary to write into his cover, both to explain his fall from grace and to bolster his credibility as a man who had managed to kick a habit, but now he was both grateful he did not need to accept it and rather in need of a drink), but that was all too convenient, as it caused a fight and allowed for an even better opportunity to climb into Director Ri’s good graces while also downplaying the opinions of the suspicious officer.

Though that also meant insulting the man (he started it) and ending up with a gun to his head, the situation wrapped up in his favor so he would count it as a win, even as his hands trembled on the way to the bathroom to collect his previously planted equipment.

 _Tread carefully_ , his mind whispered.

Obviously.

*******

_They had been tailing the man for months._

_Park Suk-young. Disgraced South Korean Intelligence Officer turned businessman blatantly looking to get into business with the northern side of the DMZ. The Party, strapped for cash, was interested, and Mu-taek’s orders were simple._

_Watch him. And make sure he doesn’t have any ulterior motives._

_Mu-taek was largely unimpressed by the buffoon. Loud-mouthed and fairly dim-witted in all matters except, apparently, business. Which was why the Party wanted him. Mu-taek did not see it, but then again what did he know of capitalistic business?_

_Still, Mu-taek did not trust him. It was his job not to trust him. So he watched very closely._

_It was around month 6 when he saw it the first time. Nothing more than a simple glance, up and down, at a passing man on the street. It surprised him so much he nearly jumped where he had been lingering behind a street vender, much to the befuddlement of his comrade, standing next to him._

_“What did you see? I didn’t see anything.”_

_Mu-taek thought again on Park’s gaze drifted down the stranger’s form, and back up. How many times had Mu-taek’s own done that since his ill-fated adventures in expanding his vocabulary?_

_“Nothing,” he replied, reaching for a cigarette. “It was nothing.”_

_*******_

Suk-young fought the second search, his reason being that time, he had something on him for them to find. He yelled and thrashed dramatically, turning heads in the restaurant as the officer searched through his bag and his goons felt Suk-young up something fierce.

Director Ri appeared just as he was truly beginning to panic that his cover might be blown and nearly a year’s worth of effort would be for nothing. And, upon seeing the Rolex boxes on the ground, Ri was _furious._

His fury was cold and calculated in a way that honestly impressed Suk-young as he quite masterfully humiliated the security officer in front of five other officers. Internally, he enjoyed the stiffening of the security officer’s shoulders, and the shiftiness of his gaze as it was pointed out just how much he had potentially fucked up this business opportunity.

_Perfect._

The deal went forward and quite smoothly at that, largely in part due to the officer’s fuckup and Director Ri’s attempts to smooth over Suk-young’s falsely ruffled feathers. It was to be an advertising project, a pretense that would both aid relations, and get video equipment inside North Korea.

In other words, it was _absolutely fucking perfect_. But Suk-young wouldn’t rejoice yet, not until he had those reactor plans and nuclear secrets in hand and was safely back in South Korea. Still, spy work was about the small victories. He had learned that well enough already.

They next wanted to meet him in a _nightclub_ of all places, though he supposed they had to have some fun while they were in China. They were all wearing their ‘Rolex’ watches when he got there, and he gushed over them cheerily, showing them his own, before pulling out the advertising plans.

Director Ri was impressed by the plans, and Suk-young continued to sell them dramatically with lots of large smiles and hand motions, thoroughly overwhelming the restrained North Koreans which for two of them anyway, worked in his favor.

He was not sure what to make of the security officer.

The man did not trust him, and likely did not think very highly of him now considering he had just been reprimanded for something having to do with Suk-young.

Which was why the spy was so surprised to catch the man regarding him, blatantly so, with lust in his gaze.

Suk-young was honestly a little shocked at the brazenness with which the officer stared at him silently from the corner of the booth, the heat in his eyes nearly making Suk-young sweat, even as he focused all of his attention on the other two men. He was doubly surprised that neither of the other two seemed to have any idea he was doing it.

If there had been any doubt in the spy’s mind about what he had suspected earlier at the hotel, it was long gone now. That officer was gay and for whatever reason, he had decided he wanted Suk-young.

Eventually, Director Ri dismissed both the officer and his companion to go dance (dance, the spy noted with more than a touch of second-hand embarrassment, being a relative term) so that he could speak alone with Suk-young, where he explained the barriers still in their way and how those barriers could feasibly be removed. Suk-young agreed to wait the extra three days. This was years in the making, what was a few more days?

He crossed his fingers as he left, grateful to have a seemingly reasonable man like Director Ri to deal with and filing away that information about Officer Jong for safe keeping. Just in case.

*******

_Mu-taek recognized more and more tells on Park Suk-young the longer he watched him until he was certain this man was a homosexual too. Certain of it._

_As certain as he could be, anyway._

_But why did he have to be so damn_ slimy _, so fucking suspicious? It was making it difficult for Mu-taek to rationalize what he was trying to do, let alone figure out a way to actually do it._

_In any case, he supposed his first order of business was to confirm in person what he already suspected. That Park was a homosexual. He touched the man’s wrist as the businessman lit his cigarette for him at the hotel, gaze roving blatantly up and down his body, and stared at him in what he hoped was a suggestive manner in the nightclub._

Notice _, he willed the man._

_And Park noticed, if the sightly bewildered and stunned look that passed over his face both at the restaurant and the nightclub was anything to go by. He noticed, so that too was another tell, because none of Mu-taek’s comrades ever seemed to recognize how he stared at them back home._

_Mu-taek did not trust Park as far as he could spit. How could he possibly trust a sleazy capitalist? But that did not stop him from burning the feeling of Park’s palm into his memory and, late at night in his room, wrapping his own hand around his cock and imagining that it was Park’s. And it would not stop him from taking full advantage of any opportunity presented to him should Pyongyang approve this absurd, insulting project the businessman was pushing._

_A man could have his principles and his needs._

_*******_

He was on…a fucking plane. To fucking _Pyongyang..._

What the fuck was he doing?

It was far too late for doubts, and in truth he had none. This was necessary work, and it wasn’t as if he had any life to go back to. His superiors had made sure of that when they set him up for this. The only way forward was, well, forward.

He was given flowers by the cluster of officers who received him when he stepped off the plane. The security officer, Jong, was there among them. Suk-young did not miss the quick intake of breath nor the way the officer’s gaze followed him as he walked past him.

Suk-young shivered, and not just from the damp and oppressive air.

He had prepared himself to do a great deal of work on this mission, _that_ among it if need be.

The purpose of _that_ being a weakness to potentially exploit for the purpose of favors or safety. To be in a security officer’s good graces was to provide himself with a potential extra layer of protection, or at least a slight buffer zone. There could also be the possibility that such a secret could be used to obtain information, be it stolen off a sleeping officer or freely given (a fat chance in hell, perhaps, but Suk-young could not help but turn over the thought in his mind that a gay officer in North Korea must be well and truly miserable).

It would be exceedingly risky, and he told himself he would only utilize that particular piece of information if absolutely necessary. There was of course the possibility, however small, that Suk-young had misread the situation or that the officer would not accept any advances, in which case Suk-young would be a dead man.

He shoved the thoughts away as they drove through the streets of Pyongyang. He would cross that particular bridge when he came to it. 

It was eerie there. There was almost no one out on the streets, very few cars. Everything was the same color, and despite all of his education and former work as an intelligence officer, the amount of propaganda visible around him was truly flabbergasting.

There was nothing here. Nothing but concrete and propaganda. Not even any trees... He had never seen anything like it.

North Korea.

He was well and truly alone in this, wasn’t he?

He had expected that, but he had not expected it to feel quite like...this.

As he followed the officers into Pyongyang’s guesthouse, the cyanide pen given to him by his handler in case of emergencies weighed heavy in his pocket. He had not looked up what it was like to die of cyanide poisoning before he came here. He did not think it would have been helpful.

They drew his blood, of all things, and an enormous vial of it too. To ‘check for infectious diseases’, the security officer explained. To infect the General would be a national disaster (Suk-young could only wish for such a disaster to befall the man).

The nurse and the female officer left quickly after his blood was drawn, leaving him alone in the room with the security officer. The man’s shoulders were stiff under his coat, and though the brim of his hat mostly obscured his eyes, it was more than obvious to Suk-young what was on his mind.

_So right out of the gate we’re doing this, are we?_

_Part of the job,_ he told himself, steeling his nerves as the officer apologized for any blackouts that may occur. He regretted, for a brief moment, the times he had looked down on his own spies for engaging in off-the-book work such as this. Put in the position now, he better understood the confines and honestly the distinct lack of choice he had in the matter, so long as he wished not to alienate a man whose good graces might one day save his life.

For the safety of his people, he’d do anything.

_It’s just sex. Nothing you haven’t done before, and with men you knew less well than him._

Suk-young would confess after the fact he had not been expecting anything at all save a legitimate power outage when the officer said ‘blackout’. He would also confess that he was also more than a bit surprised to see the officer turn on his heel and walk out the door. For a brief moment, the spy panicked, wondering what he had missed, how he had misread it and what else he had—

Then Suk-young passed out cold on the floor, and ‘blackout’ suddenly made a lot more sense.

He had no idea what they had given him, or how they had even managed to slip it to him.

When some of his senses came back to him, he was lying on one of the beds and someone was sitting beside him, talking to him, slapping him when he didn’t respond quickly enough. He wasn’t entirely sure what was being asked, nor was he certain of his own responses. He forced himself to relax and think ‘boisterous businessman’ and let the identity he had assumed for years take over.

_Do not blow your cover._

_Blow your cover and you die._

Slowly more of his senses came back to him and he was aware that someone had loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt. He was also aware of a hand resting on his breastbone and the shaky breathing of the man sitting beside him. A few blinks cleared his vision enough to make out the face of the security officer.

A brief swell of revulsion welled up in Suk-young’s chest, already low opinion of the man plummeting.

_You want to do this when I’m barely awake? Bastard._

Internally though, he simply sighed. He had already made up his mind about doing this. What difference did it really make if it was now or later.

_It’s just sex._

He moved (or better said, flopped) a hand to rest over the one on his chest, squeezing, and his observations were proven right. The man was on him in an instant.

Shaking hands pulled his shirt open the rest of the way and ran over his bare skin. The mouth that was quickly pressed over his own was desperate in its motions as the officer scrambled between his legs, nearly smothering him with his intensity.

Suk-young kissed back as much as his numb lips and foggy mind would allow him to.

 _I must not have said anything incriminating,_ he thought as hands pulled at his belt and tugged his pants and underwear down and off. _Or he wouldn’t be doing this. Not with a known spy._

 _Or perhaps it’s the opposite_ , his mind argued unhelpfully. _Perhaps dead men tell no tales and he knows it._

Either way, the officer’s hands were ghosting over his cock like he had never seen one before (at least not someone else’s), his harsh breathing echoing through the room. Then lips were on Suk-young’s again and the officer was grinding their now unclothed cocks together, choking on bitten off moans.

The whole experience was rather surreal and Suk-young was not entirely sure it wasn’t just some fucked up, drug-induced dream. But the pleasure spiking up through him though at the rough contact was no dream, and neither was the feeling of someone pushing his thighs apart, unpracticed hands groping down at his entrance.

“I want…” the officer whispered. “I have wanted…”

 _Fuck_ , Suk-young thought as he heard the man spit in his palm. The officer clearly had no idea what he was doing, no idea how to do this properly…

This was going to fucking hurt.

*******

_This was it, Mu-taek realized as he sat beside the businessman. This was his chance._

_His hands trembled as he clicked off the recorder, his actual task of confirming the man’s identity and intentions completed, and he sat there, staring down at Park._

_“Are you...” he began, voice barely rising above a whisper. “Are you a homosexual?”_

_The man made a grumbling noise but gave no reply. Mu-taek smacked him again to keep his attention._

_“Are you a homosexual?” he asked again, clearer this time._

_Park hummed sleepily. “Yes.”_

_Mu-taek’s breath stuttered in his throat at the reply and he rested a shaking hand on Park’s breastbone. A silent question._

_The hand Park rested over his was answer enough._

_The man’s skin under his hands, his lips under his mouth, his body beneath him. It all felt so good…_

_Nothing had ever felt quite so good._

_He could have come just like this, grinding their cocks together and running his hands over Park’s firm chest, everything he had imagined and more, but if this was to be his one chance to do this, he wanted more, more than this, he needed more…_

_He wanted what he had seen in that video._

_Perhaps it was good, he reasoned, that Park was not fully awake, though he seemed to be going along well enough with what Mu-taek was doing, kissing him back, erratically lifting his hips to meet the grinds of Mu-taek’s own. It was good, because the mechanics of this turned out to be a lot more complicated than originally expected._

_Men were not wet like women for starters and the friction threatened to be enough to cause pain, but spitting in his palm was enough to fix that. Men were also_ tight _. Too tight. Too tight to even push in. Shaking in frustration, cock rock hard and weeping between his thighs, Mu-taek wracked his brain for some fix for that as well until it settled upon one thing he had seen towards the end of the video, when one man had pushed his fingers up inside the other…_

_Mu-taek quickly sucked on two of his fingers and tried it, first pressing one in, then another, and moving them in and out in a parody of fucking. It seemed to work, Park’s body loosening around his fingers after a minute, and every now and again his hips even shifted down onto Mu-taek’s hand, making the officer tremble with desire._

_He couldn’t wait any longer._

_Spitting once more into his palm, he slicked up his cock and lined himself up. This time, when he pressed forward, the head popped inside._

_The feeling was indescribable._

_Fucking his wife had never felt like this, he had never felt this overwhelming pleasure that burned him alive now. Beneath him, Park groaned but he barely heard it, head buzzing as he thrust slowly in and out, savoring the feeling of the other man around him, of the firm planes of his chest and stomach, of his five o’clock shadow rasping over Mu-taek’s mouth. Soon though his pace quickened as he chased his release, desperate for it._

_It felt_ so good.

 _He came quickly, fulfilled in a way he had never before experienced, orgasm shaking him to the very core while at the same time leaving him aching for_ more _. He stayed inside Park, the fluttering of the man’s walls around him drawing out aftershocks intense enough to make him shiver, until the tightness and the heat had him wincing from oversensitivity._

_Park was still hard, his cock lying untouched on his belly, sending a fresh bolt of lust through Mu-taek._

_He took it in his hand as if it were something dangerous rather than just a cock, slowly getting up he courage to stroke it like he would his own as he listened to Park’s soft whimpers at the touch. Desire and lust burned so strongly within him at the sounds Park was making, at the feeling of a cock not his own in his hand, that despite his recent orgasm he wondered if he might manage to get hard again._

_Park eventually came over his fingers with a soft moan, hips lifting into Mu-taek’s hand. The sight punched a breath out of the officer’s lungs as he stared down at the man beneath him and at the come on his fingers. He lifted the digits to his mouth experimentally and was not unhappy with what he found, shivering with delight as well as dread._

_He was never going to be able to forget this, never going to be able to go back to the way things were. And he was never going to be able to sleep with his wife again._

_*******_

When Suk-young awoke, he was more than a little surprised to find himself fully dressed. He blinked, disoriented and nauseous.

_Had it been a dream?_

Sitting up told him that no, he had in fact had sex with someone in the recent past, and none too gently either.

 _It could have been worse,_ he thought as he stared at the two North Korean soldiers seated on the other side of his room. Officer Jong was not among them.

The soldiers half-dragged him out to a car and put him bodily in the passenger’s seat. Two men already sat in the back. Suk-young’s blood ran cold.

“Did you sleep well?” the one sitting behind him asked. He recognized the perfectly impassive voice of Officer Jong almost immediately.

Suk-young turned around in his seat, staring at the man with a mixture of indignation and utter confusion. The other man was unmoved, simply stripping Suk-young of his glasses and gazing at him like they had not, mere hours earlier, fucked in a North Korean hotel room.

 _Or rather he fucked me,_ he thought as the man informed him that all of his ‘health tests’ came back clear and motioned for him to turn around to be blindfolded. The whole thing had been rather one-sided.

 _Was it enough?_ He wondered, remembering questions and slurred answers, slaps on his face and lips on his own.

_Does this mean I was cleared?_

_Or does it mean that I am a dead man walking?_

He clutched the cyanide pen tightly in his fist.

Briefly he thought to try and memorize the turns they made, but quickly he found himself quite turned around by the weaving and twisting roads, and he abandoned the task, focusing instead on any other information he could pick up about his surroundings. Which was nothing.

The brought him to a boat of all things. It was freezing cold in the night air, especially with the spray from the water. His blindfold remained on, for the moment anyway, though it he could see the faint outline of a tall man, could smell cigarette smoke in the breeze.

The man walked towards him and something was set down beside him. A faint click, and he heard a voice speaking.

_“State your department and rank within the Defense Agency.”_

_“Intelligence team A23, officer.”_

…Oh no.

A shiver ran down his spine at the sound of a gun being loaded.

_“Why did you come to Pyongyang?”_

_“I received orders from my superior.”_

_“Who is your superior?”_

The recording was clicked off before he could hear what his answer had been, and he flinched away from the light as his blindfold was suddenly ripped off his face, tugging the cap from the pen in his hand.

“I didn’t like you from the start,” Officer Jong said, staring down at him. “An intelligence officer with an inferiority complex fallen to the temptations of capital?”

Just a bit more pressure, and the tip of the pen would break the skin.

“That story, doesn’t it seem just a bit too fabricated?”

For the second time since they had met, the bastard had a gun pressed to his head.

The seconds ticked away as the officer held it there, a slightly sadistic smile on his face. Slowly he tapped his finger on the trigger, staring him dead in the eye.

Waiting.

 _Wait_ , Suk-young screamed at himself even as every instinct yelled at him to either jump over the side of the boat or push the tip of the pen through his skin. _Wait._

“Speaking for my Party, I’ll warn you one last time,” the officer said, smile on his face shifting ever so slightly. “If you have any unsavory intentions about this ad business, not only you but the ones closest to you will suffer for it.”

And the cold metal was gone from his skin. Suk-young barely heard the click of the recorder nor his own voice sleepily saying, _Superior? Who is a businessman’s superior?Money, money, money, that is my superior._

The officer snorted, nearly grinning at him as Suk-young shook with excess adrenaline, undershirt suddenly damp with sweat. “I have to say,” the officer went on. “Now that that’s out of the way, I find myself rather looking forward to seeing where this…opportunity takes us.”

It was only too obvious what he meant by that and in that moment, Suk-young _hated_ him for it.

The rest of the boat ride passed in complete and utter silence.

There must have been hundreds upon hundreds of soldiers lining the walkway up to the palace where he was to meet Kim Jong-il, Suk-young noticed as he stepped off the boat. A sea of ugly brown uniforms as far as the eye can see, until out of the lines walked a man decidedly not in uniform.

Director Ri.

Suk-young had never been so happy to see anyone in his life. When Officer Jong nodded at him to go ahead with Ri, Suk-young had to force himself not to run.

If the officer had been trying to rattle him, well then he had come close to succeeding.

 _You,_ he reminded himself as he walked up the path, _have been in the business of intelligence for years. Get ahold of yourself._

The palace itself he found to be a magnificent place, stark contrast to the austere streets of the city and the supposed ideals of Communism, and the General was a strange man, cold and calculating. Like his soldiers and his country.

As the deal went forward and he was accepted into the ranks of South Korean traitors amongst the North Koreans, one thing stuck out to him, and that was the care shown to him by Director Ri. For his own safety, certainly, but unlike the other North Koreans he had encountered, this man was decidedly less muted, his voice often betraying some emotion and feeling.

Suk-young couldn’t say why, but it struck him.

*******

_Mu-taek had to see him again. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it since that first time. He had to, never mind the risk of discovery. He couldn’t reckon the man would think very highly of him after the stunt he had pulled on the boat, but good opinion was not needed, not for men like them._

_All men like them needed was opportunity._

*******

Suk-young was unsurprised to hear a knock on his door late the next night. The security officer had all but said he intended to take full advantage of this ‘opportunity’ he had come by.

And it was, perhaps, understandable. To be gay was not spoken of even in South Korea, and more than once the North had proudly boasted that gay North Koreans did not exist. That was ironic, Suk-young thought as he stared at the one standing at his door, lust burning hotter in the man’s eyes than the damn heater in the room. His must have been a life of secrecy and solitude.

Suk-young sighed heavily and waved the man in.

_You do not actually have a choice if you wish to remain in his good graces, remember that. And he is too suspicious of you for you to risk falling even the slightest bit out of them._

The man pulled the hat from his head and stared intently at the businessman as Suk-young stood there, waiting patiently for him to make the first move. Far be it from him to risk overstepping his bounds.

The only sounds in the room were that of the officer’s slightly labored breathing and Suk-young’s rapidly pounding heart in his ears. Eventually, the man pulled something from his pocket, a small black box, and turned it on with a click before setting it down on the table.

Suk-young frowned at it. What was it, a—

A jammer. It was a jammer, he realized as he was suddenly caught behind the neck and dragged into a ferocious kiss, his arms flying around the officer on pure instinct to steady himself. The man’s nails dug into the skin on the back of his neck as they kissed, all tongue and far too much teeth.

 _Damn_ , he thought, suddenly very annoyed at the harshness of it and he twisted a hand in the man’s uniform, shoving him back just enough to get a hand on his face and tilt his head, _yes_ that was better.

The officer resisted him at first, pushing back at the spy’s attempts to at least keep them from walking away from this with bruised and split lips, but eventually he seemed to understand the trajectory. At the first reasonable press of lips, Suk-young tipping the officer’s head _just_ right and all but shoving his tongue down his throat, the officer _moaned_.

 _Yes,_ Suk-young thought, his cock stiffening in his pants despite his apprehension at the feeling of the man suddenly _getting it._

_I’ll teach you how to do this._

It quickly became apparent, however, that the officer was not looking to learn how to have sex with men. He was only looking for the pleasure he could get from another man’s body, and this would likely be more of a fight for Suk-young to get any himself than it would be a mutual effort.

_What the fuck else did he expect?_

_Then again_ , he thought, dragging his tongue alongside the officer’s and eliciting something that almost sounded like a whimper. _He could spin that woeful inexperience and selfishness to work in his favor._

It would not be too terribly hard to blow this man’s mind, seeing as all he seemed to know how to do was mindlessly fuck.

The officer pushed him down on the bed and quickly climbed between his spread thighs, shedding his uniform coat as he did. As Suk-young shed his own clothes and helped pull more from the officer’s body, a part of him was struck by how terribly the uniform fit the officer. It was much too big, he seemed to almost drown in it. And when he finally pushed the shirt from the officer’s shoulders, Suk-young was more than a little surprised to find visible ribs beneath it.

Even on an officer.

But the man was _stubborn_ and he did not want to relinquish a single solitary spec of control.

“Hey, hey!” Suk-young complained, shoving the man back. “Spit is no good!”

“What?” the officer panted, irritation plain on his face at the interruption.

“It _hurts!_ ” Suk-young elaborated, pushing him back more so he could slide out from under him. “Wait a second.”

The man huffed, but he waited as Suk-young crossed the room, rifling around in his bag until he produced a small bottle of lotion.

“Here,” he said, crossing back over to the bed and handing the bottle to him. “Use this.”

The officer stared at it skeptically, so Suk-young elaborated. “It makes it feel better.”

He listened then.

 _But_ then he missed the whole part about prep, same as he had the first time (God, this was annoying).

“It _hurts!_ ” Suk-young said a second time, a hand on the officer’s chest.

 _“What?!”_ the officer answered, frustration roughening his voice.

So Suk-young did it himself, spreading lotion on his fingers and opening himself up with one hand while he used the other to stroke the officer’s cock, making out with him to keep him distracted until Suk-young was satisfied he would be able to sit down semi-comfortably the following day.

He was attractive at least, Suk-young mused as the officer sunk into him. And the _sounds_ he made, all high pitched whimpers and soft little moans like he had never felt anything like this before (he probably hadn’t).

So in that regard, perhaps this wasn’t… _terrible._ It could have certainly been worse.

Still though, he quickly became more than a little annoyed by the man’s rough, purely self-serving thrusts.

“Aren’t you demanding?” he teased, a quick wince flickering over his face. He got no reply and his efforts to slow him down by wrapping his legs around the officer’s waist and rolling his hips at a better pace were entirely ignored.

Eventually, he got sick of it and flipped them over.

 _Sure, definitely something boisterous businessman me would do. Definitely in character,_ he thought as he settled atop him, amused at the officer’s surprised squeak, which was quickly followed by an indignant glare.

That was before Suk-young clenched down around him. Hard.

A sharp groan escaped the officer’s throat and his hands flew to the spy’s hips, gripping hard enough to leave bruises. Suk-young looked him dead in the eye and rolled his hips slowly, making sure the officer could feel every single articulation of his body as he fucked himself on his cock. The overwhelmed and mind blown look in the man’s eye was absolutely _delicious_.

The officer let it go for a few minutes, let Suk-young ride him like that before he flipped them back over, driving in hard and fast, clearly desperate for release. To the spy’s surprise, after he came (inside him, how rude) he batted Suk-young’s hand away from his cock and gripped it himself, eyes and free hand roving up and down the spy’s body as he stroked him just this side of too hard. When Suk-young came, is was his turn to be more than a little blown away as the officer licked the come from his fingers.

The knocks on the doors kept coming after that. Night after night, month after month, whenever the spy was in town, and Suk-young learned how to play him like a fiddle. What with the desperation and need that still permeated the officer’s every move, his every kiss and touch even months after affirming that their arrangement would continue indefinitely, it was not hard.

Slowly too, the officer became more receptive to Suk-young’s suggestions. He did not resist as much when Suk-young would reach to gentle his hands, adjust his thrusts, or move on his own. He quickly learned as well the pleasure he could get from giving it to someone else, figuring out how to fuck Suk-young _just so,_ pumping the spy’s cock the whole time so that Suk-young would arch his back and _moan_.

Eventually too there came a night when instead of pushing Suk-young onto his back and having his way with him, the officer laid back on the bed and pulled the spy to straddle his hips. Suk-young remembered that as a good night, one where he rode the officer until his legs trembled with pleasure, the man’s mouth on his throat the entire time.

So he got something out of it, too. At first, it was just pleasure and an odd sort of stress relief in this strange place until one day, busy playing out his dramatically capitalist speeches to his North Korean counterparts while they filmed, he noticed something. For once the officer, standing a few meters away, did not immediately turn around and question Suk-young’s motives for being here, merely rolling his eyes instead.

The tiniest of smiles flickered across Suk-young’s face.

_It was working._

*******

_Mu-taek was truly astounded to see how much his quality of life increased since beginning this arrangement with Park. He had been wound up tighter than a drum before and only knew that now because he felt considerably better, more relaxed. He had, suddenly, something to look forward to._

_And he did look forward to it. It was perhaps unwise to jam the bugs in Park’s room as often as he did, but he couldn’t very well have his fellow officers find direct evidence of what he was doing._

_It was fine. One did not rise to his position to remain unable to bend a few rules here and there._

*******

Director Ri said it would be impossible to film near Yeongbyeon. Suk-young had hardly been expecting it to be easy, but neither did he relish in the thought of going over the man’s head and risk losing some of the favor and the tentative friendship he had formed with him.

Ri was still the only one Suk-young felt even a modicum of comfort upon seeing. That honor did not even extend to the officer he had been literally sleeping with for the better part of a year.

Still, he would do what he needed to do. It was not ultimately Director Ri who had the power to clear a visit to an area.

Officer Jong was chain-smoking, as was his habit, when when Suk-young approached him. He was not the most talkative of men, even protected by the jammer he brought with him at night. In fact, he rarely said anything at all save a few short words indicating what he did or did not want on any given night.

As such, Suk-young’s rather long-winded explanation of the supposed tombs near Yeongbyeon was met with nothing but a series of increasingly unimpressed expressions.

“What has this got to do with me?” the officer finally asked, cutting him off in the middle of talking about artifacts.

Suk-young followed him and sat down across from him. “Goryeo artifacts are very expensive in the South! Selling one piece alone has the potential to bring in 300 million won.”

The officer’s eyebrows quirked at that, but he remained unconvinced.

“You want to rob graves on North Korean land?”

_Goddamnit, why did he always have to be so difficult?_

It was a rather odd situation he found himself in, Suk-young mused as he launched into an explanation about how Director Ri approached the selling of artifacts in a flawed manner (a criticism which seemed to amuse the officer, the two men clearly did not get along). He had been coming to North Korea for many months now and could count on one hand the number of nights he had been in the country where the man in front of him did not knock on his door, yet they were still nearly strangers, the officer himself nearly a robot.

But he was still just a man, and a man had needs, which was what Suk-young had been capitalizing on.

It seemed almost cruel sometimes, the spy thought, to outwardly take advantage of a desperate, touch-starved man for his own gains when he knew very well that once this mission ended, all North Koreans he was involved with might very well be killed. But the mission was necessary for the safety of his own people, so he did it anyway, wrapping the soldier further and further around his finger without him even knowing it.

Suk-young had just arrived back in North Korea a few days prior after a brief sojourn back home at the behest of his handler. The knock on the door had come as expected, and Suk-young answered it.

Their fucking after Suk-young returned from abroad was always a special kind of intense, almost as if the officer had been worried Suk-young would not return at all and was making it count now that he was back. After riding the man until his thighs quaked, marks pressed into the skin of his hips and desperate kisses having bruised his mouth, the officer’s come was cooling inside him and Suk-young did something he had never done before.

Typically after sex, the officer would simply get up and leave, the entire affair rarely lasting more than an hour. This time though, as the officer gripped him by the hips and made to lift Suk-young up and off him, the businessman resisted, instead clenching down around the softening cock inside him and drawing a groan from the other man. Then he leaned forward, wrapping an arm around the man’s neck and kissed him.

They never kissed after sex. Ever.

“You always run off,” Suk-young teased in his annoying businessman character. “Stay a minute. I’ve missed you.”

The man made a noise of protest and confusion, but he allowed the kiss for a few breaths, almost melting into it, before pushing Suk-young away. The next night though, he allowed it for a bit longer.

Any man, even a robotic North Korean officer, craved affection as much as release and Suk-young was not above using that to further his own agenda.

“But why come to me with this?” the officer interrupted him again. “With all of your connections, why not just get permission directly from the General?”

_He was too fucking careful, this one._

“Don’t be like that!” Suk-young retorted, letting just a touch of familiarity slip into his voice, so small none but the officer would catch it.

_“Don’t be like that!” he had barked at the officer as the man bit bruises into his collarbones._

_Suk-young had ended up on his back, legs up over the officer’s shoulders as the man looked down at him with a shit-eating grin._

_“Like this?” he asked cheekily before driving in hard and fast and rough, just how Suk-young liked it. The spy would deny in court that the officer had had press a hand to his mouth to muffle his cries._

“Think of it like this,” Suk-young went on. “What if I raise his hopes and nothing is found? Do you think he would forgive me?”

The officer shifted in his chair. That was a no.

“So we first check and make sure it exists, and after determining locations, then we report it to the General.” When he still looked unconvinced, Suk-young pressed on. “I wonder if this could even get you a promotion.”

That got the officer’s attention.

“And I’ll get my antiquities fee!” he finished with a wide grin.

The officer stood, turning his back and walking a few steps away, bringing the cigarette back to his lips.

(Suk-young had learned that North Koreans —even the officers— smoked so much because they were hungry and nicotine dampened the hunger. Once, Suk-young had left one small bit of dinner on the plate still in the room when the officer had come to see him. Later after the man had gone, so was the food.

After that, Suk-young took to doing that every night. Perhaps it was pity, maybe even sympathy that drove him to do it. The officer especially was very strongly indoctrinated in the ways of the North, and here he was being left to starve because of gross mismanagement. Suk-young had all but abandoned one of his initial goals of using their relationship to potentially make a turncoat out of the officer himself, but he found himself starting to consider it again. Hunger was a powerful tool.

In the meantime though, he always left food for the man. No doubt the officer knew what he was doing, but he never mentioned it and neither did Suk-young, not wanting to insult him. By the time the officer left each night, the food was always gone, though the spy never saw him take it.)

“You really are the perfect capitalist,” the officer said with a snort. “Since we’ve come this far, I’ll try convincing Director Ri to visit Guryong River. No…since I’m in charge of security issues, I’ll make it an order.”

Suk-young clapped excitedly, plastering on a wide smile and lavishing praise on the man.

And to his utter surprise, the officer actually chuckled, a genuine smile touching his lips.

Suk-young almost felt bad about it.

That night played out a bit differently than the previous ones. The knock on the door was no surprise, and the officer slipped in, setting the jammer and his hat down on the table as he always did. But the arm the officer wrapped around his neck then was new, as was the marked ease of the resulting kiss. The biting teeth Suk-young normally had to soothe were notably absent as well, replaced instead with a tongue pressing itself almost affectionately into Suk-young’s mouth.

The businessman was hardly one to miss such a chance. He wrapped his arms around the man’s back, pulling their bodies flush together and the officer made a contented sound, his other arm going around Suk-young’s shoulders.

“Show me something new,” the officer said when the kiss eventually broke.

“Like what?”

The officer did not reply, likely because he had no idea of anything save what they had already done.

After a second had passed, Suk-young simply shrugged. “Alright,” he quipped and he pushed the officer down on the bed, quickly following to slide between his thighs.

There, he was met with a glare and a harsh “No!”

“Not that!” Suk-young soothed with a chuckle, pacifying him with another kiss and a hand massaging his cock through his pants. “I want to suck you off.”

The officer stared at him with wide eyes, lust reignited in a second. “Oh.”

“Oh?” Suk-young repeated, dragging his palm over the officer’s clothed cock. “Is that a good ‘oh’ or a bad ‘oh’?”

The officer kissed him in reply.

Suk-young was unsurprised to find that in this too, the officer had no manners and Suk-young was forced to hold him down by the hips as licked and sucked at his cock, listening to the man’s moans. Eventually he pulled off in favor of sucking his balls into his mouth, reveling in the sound that elicited.

In fact, it gave him an idea.

No, definitely not, that would go over badly.

Then again though…

Maybe just a little. Just a touch. A test.

Carefully he let go of the officer’s hip with one hand and, swallowing the officer’s cock down his as far as he could go, he pressed his thumb just behind his balls.

The reaction was immediate and at first, Suk-young feared he had just majorly fucked up. The officer snatched his wrist, at first seeming indignant before his face contorted in pleasure and he let go.

“Do that again,” he panted.

Suk-young smirked and complied, pressing his thumb again and again over that spot until the officer was widening his legs and thrusting down onto his hand, whining in pleasure. Suk-young brought him off like that several times (he would never forget the look of utter shock and ecstasy on the officer’s face when the second orgasm hit him), cock throbbing as he watched the officer writhe under him.

His first instinct was to keep it up and make him beg for mercy until he remembered where he was and who he was with. Deciding that was likely to go over like a lead balloon and not wanting to overplay his hand, Suk-young ducked down and sucked the head of the officer’s cock into his mouth, teasing at the slit with his tongue while continuing to press on that spot until the officer was coming properly down his throat with an honest to God wail.

Quite pleased with himself, Suk-young regarded the man spread out on the bed, utterly boneless, and reached for his own cock, heat coursing through him. Before he even had a chance to realize the other man had moved, he was suddenly knocked flat on his back, the officer between his thighs with an almost wild look on his face.

They stared at each other for only a moment before the officer slunk down and took his cock into his mouth.

He was not good at it. All things considered, it was probably the worst blowjob Suk-young had ever received in his life, but all the same it was not long before he was tugging on the officer’s hair, whispering, “I’m going to come, I’m—“ in warning. The officer ignored it, sucking hard and then Suk-young was coming down his throat and he was _swallowing_ and licking his lips like he actually _enjoyed it._

So maybe it wasn’t the worst blowjob he had ever received.

The next night the officer was back, wrapping his arms around Suk-young’s neck and saying _do that again,_ so Suk-young sucked him off and massaged his prostate until he was a whimpering, squirming mess under him and Suk-young finally let him come properly. Then the officer once again pressed _him_ back into the sheets and sucked him off as well. And he accepted Suk-young’s offer of a kiss after, utterly unbothered by the taste of come on their tongues.

“You can stay, if you want,” Suk-young offered when the kiss ended, all too aware of the boneless ease in the officer’s shoulders and the opportunity he had to capitalize on this newfound dimension to their arrangement.

No such luck, as the officer actually laughed at him before getting dressed and leaving without another word. The next night, however, he did delay his departure just a bit, letting himself settle in between Suk-young’s thighs and kiss him long after they had come down from their highs. He didn’t stay then either, but it was clear that slowly he was relaxing around Suk-young, if only a bit.

That was what the spy needed to see. That could be useful.

*******

 _Mu-taek had absolutely noticed the pattern, and at first he had been both mortified and extremely insulted. How dare this capitalist believe that a hardworking, upstanding communist like himself needed_ help _?!_

_The problem was that he did._

_The food situation in the North was getting worse by the day rather than better, to the point where even high officials like himself barely got enough food to eat. Each day he smoked until his lungs burned (at least cigarettes were still plentiful in this country) in an attempt to stave off the feeling, but he was still_ so hungry…

_So he bit his tongue and took the food Suk-young left for him each time he visited, preparing a few scathing remarks for the man in case he ever dared make a comment, but he never did, always pretended like nothing had been left out and nothing had been taken._

_That was the first time he felt something in the way of a warm feeling towards the businessman. It quickly faded because the man was still a slimy capitalist, but Mu-taek would not deny that the act and his discretion was appreciated._

_He felt that feeling again when Park got separated from the group during a scouting mission (lost in the fucking woods, did that man have any sense at all) and was collected by local police. He threw out Mu-taek’s name, so of course the officer went to fish him out. After he had thoroughly yelled at the businessman for his stupidity and blatantly defying clearly outlined rules, he had gotten the strangest feeling. The want to reach out to the slightly shaken up man in front of him and…comfort him?_

_He couldn’t in that moment of course, but later that night Mu-taek indulged himself, kissed him slowly, hands rubbing up and down his back and asked if he was alright. Something odd had flashed across the businessman’s face as he nodded yes._

_Mu-taek hummed, brushing a hand through Park’s hair. “If you don’t want people to think you’re a slimy, suspicious capitalist, then don’t act like a slimy, suspicious capitalist.”_

_Park nodded, sighing deeply._

_Mu-taek leaned against the table, hands drifting down to hold Park by the waist. “You did the right thing, giving them my name.”_

_“I gave them Director Ri’s first, but he didn’t pick up his phone.”_

_Mu-taek snorted. “Probably a wise choice. I considered letting you sit there for a little bit to stew over how stupid you were wandering off like that.”_

_“Aren’t you kind.”_

_Mu-taek kissed him long and deep before pulling away and shaking his head. “You cannot play games here.”_

_Park made an indignant sound. “I’m not playing any games, I got lost!”_

_“I would have thought you had been coming here long enough to understand that our government does not take kindly to those who act like spies.”_

_Park stared at him, dumbfounded. “Sp—spies! Have you lost you mind?”_

_Mu-taek’s temper reared it’s head. “Have_ you?! _Going around an sneaking off!” At Park’s spluttering, Mu-taek sighed. “Look, don’t act like a spy and you won’t be treated like one. Got it?”_

_Park glared at him but nodded, muttering something about crazy North Koreans. When Mu-taek reached out for him again, the businessman walked away._

_“You think I’m sleeping with you after that? Fucking..”_

_The officer got up and walked over to where Park now stood by the window, tentatively resting a hand on his back. “Give them my name first if you get into trouble again. I always pick up my phone.”_

_Park snorted, but cracked a small smile as he nodded._

_Mu-taek nodded back. “Now kiss me. You leave for China to pick up that excavating equipment soon.”_

_“So demanding…”_

_Their fucking that night was uncharacteristically languid, Park’s legs wrapped loosely around his waist, hands in his hair, kissing the entire time._

*******

A few weeks later, Officer Jong was able to arrange for them to be taken to Yeongbyon.

The night before the officer had paused before he left, taking Suk-young’s face into his hands and looked him dead in the eye.

“Do not wander off tomorrow.”

“I told you a million times, it—“

“I’m serious,” the offer said, voice stern. “If you leave the sight of my comrades for even a second, you risk being shot on sight.”

Park filed that away into his section on ‘How the Fuck Am I Going to Get These Nuclear Plans’ and feigned shock. “…What the _fuck_ am I walking into?”

“You’re the one who wanted to look for tombs there.” The officer sighed, thumb brushing over Park’s cheek. “Just…do as I say. Do as my comrades say. _Glue_ yourself to Director Ri’s side, and nothing will happen to you. Okay?”

Park spluttered. “I mean _yes!_ I would always prefer _not_ to be shot!”

“Good.”

The officer kissed him firmly before he left. Suk-young took off his glasses in favor of rubbing his eyes, wondering if he had gotten in over his head and warning himself not to rely on this soldier’s protection because it was haphazard at best.

_Stop acting like a spy and we won’t treat you like one._

The funny part had been that Suk-young actually _had_ snuck off in favor of ‘acting like a spy’ and had made a mistake. He had thought himself a dead man even after the officer walked in, switching between shouting at the local police for picking up the country’s prize connection and at Suk-young for being so _stupid_.

But something had undeniably shifted in his relationship with the officer, more and more hints of affection making their way into the covert time they spent together, though Suk-young refused to trust it. The object of this game was to ensnare _him_ , not be ensnared.

Driving out to Yeongbyon the next day, he found himself surprised the soldier had even bought his claim that there were tombs in such a place. It was _nothing_ like Suk-young had imagined.

“Are there really artifacts in this place?” the officer asked, glancing around at the rows of peddlers and the dilapidated housing, the perfect picture of utter desolation. It was grim, to say the least.

“So they say,” Suk-young murmured, just a little bit nervous.

The officer didn’t seem bothered, merely shrugging. “Anyway, look carefully. My comrades and I will not be able to join you as we have party business to attend to. Comrades Ri and Kim will accompany you.”

Suk-young nodded his thanks and the officer turned to leave, eyes lingering on Suk-young’s face for just a second longer than they might have otherwise, a warning in his eye.

_Don’t wander off._

_Don’t worry,_ Suk-young thought after him. _I have no plans to be shot today._

Then again, who ever did. All Suk-young knew was that Comrade Kim was out of his goddamn mind.

Perhaps he thought out here in the middle of nowhere, no one would bother to listen. Suk-young was not convinced. Director Ri had just pinned the faces of the two Generals to his collar before quickly departing, and Suk-young would bet what was left of his savings on it being a bug.

“What are you talking about?” he said loudly, holding a finger to his lips and pointing to the pin. “Researcher? I don’t know any researchers, why would they give me a gift? And we’re not wasting time, we’re here to find ancient tombs and we have to search quickly! Hurry up!” And he turned and fled the area as quick as he could, decidedly not looking at the gruesome pile of starvation victims to his right as he passed. For a brief moment, he even forgot the officer’s order to _not leave the sight of his comrades_.

Suk-young’s heart rate did not drop below 110bpm for the rest of the day.

_I swear to God if you blew my fucking cover…_

He was still invited to the dinner that night and actually taken there, so perhaps it was still intact. He had to say he was more than a bit surprised to hear Latin music being played at the dinner, a special show no doubt put on for him, but he could not enjoy it as ice slowly curled through his veins.

Deputy Director Kim was nowhere in sight.

Suk-young spotted Officer Jong a few tables over after a while, sitting beside a woman who may have been his wife. The officer did not even glance over at him and while the sight of the security officer was hardly what Suk-young would call a relief, the spy still felt some small measure of comfort at recognizing a face.

Eventually Director Ri appeared, much to Suk-young’s actual relief, a woman and young boy beside him whom he introduced as his wife and son. Suk-young’s heart throbbed even as he pinched the boy’s cheek and complimented the man’s wife. None of them smiled.

“Now that everyone is here, let’s eat,” Director Ri said and like machines, every other person in the hall stood up at exactly the same time and processed single file to the buffet line in perfect order.

The longer he was here, the more this place unnerved him.

“Where is Deputy Director Kim?” he asked Director Rias they stood with their plates. “I’ve not seen him yet tonight.”

Director Ri was quiet for so long, Suk-young thought he would not get an answer. In and of itself, that was an answer.

“It will be quite difficult to see Comrade Kim from here on out,” Director Ri said neutrally. “He was transferred to the Economic Committee in Russia.

“You don’t say!” Suk-young said loudly, heart pounding in his ears. “And he left without saying goodbye?”

Suddenly the whole room went deathly silent as the lights began to flicker.

“Mr. Park.”

A potent mix of fear and resignation washed over him. _So this is where I die._

“Our cooperation,” Director Ri said carefully. “Has been the first since the split of the North and South. The first in 40 years.” Then Suk-young was being grabbed quite viciously by the front of his coat and dragged forward so that Director Ri was whispering into his ear, voice shaking.

“I don’t know why or on whose orders Comrade Kim did what he did—“

He had been right. The pin was bugged.

“—but if the General came to know of what was said, not only this project but you and I as well would be threatened.”

Slowly the man’s fingers uncurled in his coat and the man pulled away, sweaty and trembling and Suk-young was left to wonder if his cover remained intact or not.

“At this stage,” Director Ri said flatly, looking him dead in the eye. “I will not refute that you are a businessman. The project will continue to run as scheduled, but in the future tread carefully.” He lowered his voice. “Because if you think that Jong Mu-taek would not turn you in in a heartbeat given the slightest whiff of what I have discovered, no matter what you’re doing for him, then you are sorely mistaken.”

Blood ice cold in his veins, Suk-young found himself left without much of an appetite. 

Back in this room that night, his cover officially blown and his dalliance discovered, he held the cyanide pen in his hands and debated his options. He could try and make a run for it, but would likely not get very far without the help of his handler, which he was not going to get. He might as well kill himself right here and right now and save himself a lot of pain and suffering.

That meant his only choice was to stay. He hadn’t been arrested yet. He would have to stay and trust that Director Ri remained fearful enough for his own safety that he would not voice his suspicions to the government.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when the knock on his door came and he nearly tipped over in utter relief when he saw it was only the officer.

“Officer Jong,” he said, a wide grin on his face as he let the man in, pressing a hand to his chest to calm his racing heart.

The man frowned as he passed the spy, clearly suspicious of his sudden unease. “Are you well?” he asked as he set his hat and the jammer down on the table.

“Yes,” Suk-young said quickly, crossing to room to stand in front of the officer and brush his coat from his shoulders. “I was simply…surprised by the sudden departure of Comrade Kim.”

“Ah.” The officer regarded him for a moment before reaching for the buttons on Suk-young’s shirt.

Suk-young swallowed stiffly, reaching up to grasp the officer’s hands, stilling them. “Do you know what happened to him?”

He didn’t know why he was asking. It was obvious what had happened to the man, but words _did I get a man killed_ had been rattling around inside his head since his conversation with Director Ri and he _had_ to know for sure.

 _Get a grip_ , he told himself as the officer raised an eyebrow.

“Nosey businessman,” he said with an almost fond quirk of his lips. “Even if I did know, I could not tell you.”

Suk-young nodded quickly. “Yes. Pardon me.”

The officer curled a hand around the back of his neck and pulled him in for a slow kiss. “You’re worried whatever he did might reflect poorly on you?”

Suk-young chose his next words very, very carefully. That may have been a foregone conclusion to him, but what he thought was not relevant. What innocent businessman Suk-young might be thinking, that was what mattered.

“Well,” he said with a nervous smile, hands resting on the officer’s ribs. “I just don’t want anything to jeopardize my company’s agreement with North Korea. It’s all been going so well.”

The officer rolled his eyes. “Always about money with you, hmm?”

“That is the purpose of this cooperation,” Suk-young argued as the officer pressed kisses along his jaw and down the side of his neck. “Making money for both of us.”

“Indeed.” One scrape of teeth over his pulse point (Suk-young shuddered, he was getting good at this) and he pulled back. “Capitalists.”

“Officer Jong—“

“Mu-taek.”

Suk-young blinked.

The officer stared right back at him, hands returning to the buttons of Suk-young’s shirt. “All this time we’ve been doing this, here at least, call me Mu-taek.”

“Mu-taek,” Suk-young repeated, rolling the name and the implications of its use around in his mind.

 _Goddamnit, Comrade Kim_ , he thought as the officer pulled him into a much more passionate kiss, pushing the shirt from his shoulders. _Goddamnit._

Perhaps he could still salvage this mission. It wasn’t as if he had a choice but to try.

********

_Mu-taek had been curious about something as of late._

_Ever since Park Suk-young had sucked him off and pressed against that spot behind his balls, he had been addicted to that feeling, craving it like he had never craved anything else before in his life._

_And now he was wondering…_

_Well._

_He had already figured out how to recreate that sensation himself, during one of the many times Park had had to leave the country for a bit, but all it had done was left him even more curious about…how else he could get that feeling._

_The one man in the video and now Park himself seemed to enjoy being on the receiving end of sex between two men. Said it felt good._

_“Feels so good…” Park had moaned more than once, hands braced on Mu-taek’s chest as he fucked himself on Mu-taek’s cock. Park had also mentioned once that he preferred riding him, saying that it was easier to ‘get the right angle’ that way._

_And that statement was what Mu-taek was exploring now._

_He had not been able to visit Park that evening, had been delayed by Party business. His wife was long asleep by the time he made it home, the apartment dark and quiet._

_The idea of it had initially been quite repulsive to him, though that was before he discovered this new feeling. The last time he had seen Park, the thought had crossed his mind as the man brought him off with nothing but two fingers behind his balls, but he had not voiced his curiosity, still struck by the perceived wrongness of it._

_But in his dark apartment late at night, his wife asleep in the bedroom, the bathroom at the other end of the apartment…_

_What was the harm in trying it?_

_So he sat in the bathroom on the floor, his back against the door, legs spread wide and a hand between them, saliva coating his fingers despite what Park often said about using it as slick. For a while he simply sat there, left hand stroking his cock while his right pressed on that spot, enjoying the soft spasms of pleasure rippling through his belly._

_He could always just keep doing this, he reasoned, pressing a little harder and biting his lip to stay silent._

_But the truth was that any single time Park would have to leave the country could be the very last time they would see each other. The situation was increasingly destabilized with the North’s interference in the Southern government. One wrong move from either side and Park might not be allowed back in. Or Mu-taek out, even to China. That or it was always possible Park might one day decide he was sick of North Koreans and leave the project to someone else in his company._

_So in short, any single time the two men slept together could be the last time they would ever have the chance to, so if Mu-taek even thought he might want to try this with another man, he needed to do it sooner rather than later._

_Carefully, he pushed a finger inside himself._

_The feeling was strange and he almost quit right there, not enjoying the uncomfortable pressure as his body tried to reject the intrusion, but a few presses of his thumb behind his balls and the memory of Park clutching his back and moaning_ right there, right there _had him pressing on, stroking the finger along his inner walls._

_He often watched Park prepare himself like this. It was a truly erotic scene, the man spread out before him, his hand between his legs, fingers pushed inside himself. He tried now to replicate the motions Park used, gentle stroking motions, pressing his fingers up towards his belly._

_Still, after several minutes of it he found nothing but discomfort, and annoyance pulsed through him, his softening cock lying limp on his belly. About to give up, he moved to pull his finger out, giving one last stroke at the last second before he would stop there and forget the whole thing—_

_Oh._

_A sharp breath was punched out of his lungs at the sudden spark of pleasure. Tentatively he tried it again and sighed in pleasure, cock stiffening rapidly. He kept at it, pressing and rubbing over that spot, completely ignoring his cock in favor of this feeling deep within him until one finger ceased to be enough and he pulled it out to spit on them again before sliding two back in._

_He did not mind the stretch this time. He would even go so far as to say it felt good as an added sensation to the pleasure he was chasing. It was not long before a feeling similar to an orgasm (only_ so _much better) overwhelmed him and he slapped his free hand over his mouth to keep quiet, grinding down on his fingers as he shuddered. A few more like that (who would have known it was possible to have more than one orgasm?_ Regularly _at tha_ t _) left him slumped on the floor, utterly sated without ever having touched his cock._

_But as he stood, cleaned himself up, and made his way to bed, he found that instead of sating his curiosity as well, that had only grown._

_Curiosity killed the fucking cat, he reminded himself, so terribly distracted from his job the following day as he tried to make sure he would have the time that night to visit Park._

_Park would have to return to his own country soon for the election, he then reminded that hesitant part of himself, and who knew when or if he would be able to make it back? And if Mu-taek no longer had him to see, no longer had a reason to even visit China to find someone else to do this with, who knew when he would ever have another chance to sleep with another man again and try this?_

_So if any part of him even thought he wanted to try it with someone else, Mu-taek reasoned, then he needed to just fucking do it._

_*******_

Eventually the two men ended up on the bed, naked as the officer straddled his hips and ground their cocks together. For once in the months they had been sleeping together, the man was unhurried, his kisses almost lazy and the movements of his hips and hands languid. Suk-young had his hands on the man’s waist, moving with him and kissing him back, letting the sensations soothe his rather frayed nerves.

Never mind that he was sleeping with a high level _security officer_ , God in Heaven…

The officer broke the kiss eventually, gazing down at him with lust-filled eyes and a red flush on his cheeks.

“I want…” he breathed, trailing off.

“Hmm?” Suk-young asked, trailing his hands up the man’s sides and plastering on a wide smile. “C’mon, you know I’m up for anything. What do you want?”

The officer bit his lip. Holding Suk-young’s gaze, he shift up just a little and ground his ass back against Suk-young’s cock.

The businessman stared at him, dumbfounded. “… _That?”_

“I’m curious,” the officer replied, body tensing as he continued to grind his ass back against Suk-young’s cock.

…

_What the f—_

“Bit of a…change of heart?” Suk-young said uncertainly.

“Does that bother you?”

“Have you ever even—“

“Does that matter?”

Suk-young stared at him before slowly shaking his head. “It…does not.”

“Good.” Then the officer was pressing the bottle of slick into his hand and kissing him urgently.

Suk-young broke it off, hands on the man’s waist. “On your back is e—“

“No.”

“But—“

“ _Like this.”_

Suk-young sighed, but relented, getting the distinct feeling he would live just long enough to regret this. “Tell me if it hurts.”

“Hurry up.”

Suk-young was unsurprised to find that the officer was _tight_ and he stiffened up even more at the first touch of Suk-young’s fingers to his entrance. Suk-young pressed a thumb just behind his balls to try and distract him from the intrusion, with only limited success.

“You don’t have t—“

“I want to. I’m _curious.”_

It was useless to argue with him, so Suk-young pressed on, sucking on his collarbone and searching for that spot inside him while teasing him from the outside. Thankfully he found it quickly enough.

The officer let out a strangled gasp, clenching down hard on the spy’s fingers as the flush on his face spread down his neck and chest. Suk-young suppressed a smile. He rubbed over that spot inside and out, working in another two fingers as he did until the officer’s thighs were shaking under him and Suk-young himself would have finger-shaped bruises bitten into his shoulders.

“I could make you come like this,” Suk-young offered, carefully thrusting his fingers in and out and making sure to brush over his prostate with each movement. Then the pillows were ripped out from under his head and he was being pushed down flat on his back, the officer looming over him as he spread slick over Suk-young’s cock.

The officer was panting above him, that pretty red flush still staining his face and neck and Suk-young, for a brief moment, forgot where he was and who he was with, focused only on the man above him, his pink tongue licking at his lips.

“Can you make me come like _this?_ ”

He said it so quietly Suk-young barely heard it, and even then he was so stunned he thought he had imagined it. Had the officer —robotic, desperate, straight-laced Jong Mu-taek— just…. _said that?_

Then the officer was reaching for Suk-young’s cock and sinking down onto him in one quick roll of his hips. Entirely too quick, and the officer winced as he bottomed out, but then he was experimentally shifting his hips, a soft moan escaping him.

Suk-young was too blown away to do much of anything besides lay there and stare.

It took the officer a minute to adjust, for the grimace to fully disappear from his face, but through all of it, his cock did not soften. Then he was biting his lip, clenching down around Suk-young and moving his hips just so, and Suk-young was knocked out of his trance.

They fucked like that: the officer astride him, bracing with his elbows on either side of the spy’s head as he rolled his hips in time with Suk-young’s thrusts.

The businessman had no idea how long it actually took, but it couldn’t have been very long. Stress ran high in his blood and the officer was broiling hot and so very tight around him. It had been _ages_ since he sunk his cock into someone.

The officer himself seemed more than a little overwhelmed by the sensations, his mouth hanging open as he whined and whimpered, eventually (much to Suk-young’s surprise) letting go of his attempts at actually riding the spy and just let Suk-young grasp him by the hipbones, suspend him in mid air, and drive into him with deep, hard strokes.

Suk-young came like that, burying himself deep inside the other man as he spilled with a loud moan, louder than was likely advisable, but then the officer was moaning too and grinding back on him insistently. Suk-young reached for his cock and brought him off with a few quick strokes.

They stayed where they were for a while: the officer still astride him, Suk-young still inside him, as they caught their breath. Eventually, the officer lifted his hips and let Suk-young slip out before collapsing off to the side.

Suk-young himself hadn’t the faintest idea what to say. Thankfully, the businessman did.

“So?” he asked, glancing over at him. “Did you like it?”

The officer wasn’t looking at him, spread bonelessly out on the bed as he was, and for a second he didn’t appear to have heard him. When he finally did react, it was with a sharp and drawn out laugh, a wide grin on his face.

“I’ll…take that as a yes?” Suk-young said with a nervous laugh as well.

The officer didn’t reply. When he finally did get up, it wasn’t to get dressed. He simply fished two cigarettes and a lighter out of the pocket of his coat and returned to sit next to Suk-young on the bed, handing him one.

As they smoked in silence, sides pressed together, Suk-young very firmly reminded himself that he was not to rely on this for protection. Just because they had this arrangement did not mean this man beside would not immediately turn him in if he got half a whiff of what Director Ri suspected, as Ri himself had said. This was not protection and he was not to let his guard down. This was not real and he was still a spy.

“Since when are you so stiff?”

Suk-young turned.

The officer —Mu-taek— was staring at him, his face carefully neutral as it always was, but his eyes held just a spark of affection. Or if not that, than at least something other than profound dislike or lust.

Suk-young looked away, taking a drag of his cigarette. “I don’t want to go back to China.”

The officer raised an eyebrow and cracked a smile. “I’ll be so happy to report to the General that you now prefer North Korea to China. Besides—“ He nudged Suk-young’s shoulder. “You’ll be back. The advertising project alone is a five year contract, correct? And we are not even at the two-year mark yet.”

Suk-young nodded.

“There, see? You’ll be back.” The officer turned and swung a leg over Suk-young’s hips to straddle his lap, draping his long arms over his shoulders. “Speak with your archeologists while you’re back in the South for the election. Find out where else you might be able to search for artifacts. I’ll see that you have access.”

Suk-young rested his hands on the officer’s hips. “Would I not be disturbing North Korean soil?”

“Only if you don’t find anything.”

Suk-young stared at the smirk on the man’s face, utterly dumbfounded.

Did he just… _joke?_

The officer leaned down and kissed him then, smoke curling around them. The spy kissed him back.

Even after the officer eventually left, Suk-young did not sleep.

*******

_You’re letting your guard down, Mu-taek berated himself. You shouldn’t._

_He wasn’t, he argued. And he wouldn’t._

_He had been sleeping with Park Suk-young for a year and a half now, and was still not always sure what to make of the man. Sometimes he was boisterous and bubbly in the worst way possible, truly best in small doses, while other times he seemed much more subdued, even troubled. Almost like two totally different men._

_The poor bastard had just been pulling himself out of the ruins of his life when he crossed paths with North Korea, so perhaps it was understandable._

_Truth be told, Mu-taek knew all about what it was like to be troubled. His entire life he had devoted to his country, his people, and the revolution. He had_ believed _in it, too, believed that North Korea was the best country on the face of the Earth and he was lucky to live in it. So what if they had troubles, every country did. At least theirs were out in the open and not glossed over._

_It had been so much simpler when he believed that._

_Then he had seen China. He had seen Japan. And his devotion wavered. Originally he had pushed that away, chalking it up to the temptations of capitalism, certain the such an environment long term must truly be hell. Then he had realized he was gay, something impossible to be in North Korea. Truly impossible, logistically impossible, not just taboo. Unheard of. Unknown. Nonexistent. Except for him._

_At the same time, the famine had hit._

_He was often praised for being cold and calculating, nearly robotic in his precision and focus. But he was still just a man, and no man could bear to see his people starve. Except for, apparently, their General._

_Long had he rationalized away the palace and the riches the Kim family enjoyed, but now…_

_Now he was doubtful._

_He loved his country, and he still believed in North Korea, in the revolution. It was just that he was starting to doubt that the Kim family were the right people to lead that revolution. And the more he became embroiled in the complicated politics of relations between the North and South, the more he began to realize that this would never change, not in his lifetime anyway._

_He had another temptation now, too…_

_Park always asked him to stay, or at least offered it to him, even though they both knew that wasn’t possible. Mu-taek simply couldn’t be caught here, what they were doing was already a risk enough. Mu-taek had already taken to lingering for as long as was safe. Most nights they would just smoke and enjoy the silence. Park would get up and use the bathroom, leaving Mu-taek to eat the food he left out for him in peace and spare him the embarrassment._

_Other nights, rare nights, particularly nights when Park was more his somber and so very tired self, he would fall asleep on Mu-taek’s shoulder, cigarette often still burning in his hand. That was what had happened this night._

_The businessman had just returned from a visit home to the South and was clearly troubled, though he refused to say what was bothering him. After a few attempts at unsuccessfully trying to pryit out of him, the officer had simply huffed and kissed him. Park kissed him back._

_Mu-taek rode him that night, had been aching for it since Park left, and the businessman fucked up into him roughly as he gripped bruises into Mu-taek’s hips._

_Sometimes cultural stigma still got to him over this, but increasingly he was able to push it away in favor of simply how_ good _it felt. Every once in a while, what did it matter? It was not as if anyone knew anyway._

_Park eventually let go of his hips in favor of wrapping one hand around Mu-taek’s cock while the other dipped down between them, pressing at that spot in time with the thrusts of his cock and the strokes of his hand. Mu-taek would have thought the man would have run out of new ideas by now, but apparently not. The officer shook apart under his hands with remarkable ease. Park came quickly after, gripping Mu-taek hard by the hips and railing into him until the officer was biting his lip and wincing from the overstimulation._

_As Park spilled inside him, he was once again reminded of how much he fucking_ loved it.

_Then they had been sitting in silence, smoking side by side, when Park had leaned very heavily on Mu-taek all of a sudden, his hair brushing the officer’s face. Less than half way through his cigarette and he was already fast asleep._

_Mu-taek took the cigarette and finished it for him, suddenly feeling a bit tired himself. Here he was: no longer hungry for the first time in weeks (Park had not eaten any of his food that night, Mu-taek was more than willing to make it look like he had), sexually sated, in a post-coital haze of nicotine, with Park asleep next to him. He was, honestly, content._

_If we were elsewhere I could stay. If we were in China or Japan or..._

_Or..._

_And, for the first time in his life, he thought about defecting._

_More a thought experiment than it was anything else, he mused that it would be so easy for him to do it, too. Not only was he a security officer who knew all there was to know about what not to do while fleeing the country, but he was one of the few people who could leave on official business and not be watched. He was the one doing the watching. All he would have to do would be to make up a bullshit excuse about needing to follow Park to China and just never come back. No one would be expecting him to do it. He could get on a boat or a plane to South Korea or wherever the hell he wanted…_

_He stopped himself, feeling ridiculous. He wouldn’t last two days in the South. Mu-taek was no traitor and certainly not a slimy capitalist, he’d be fucking miserable if he defected._

_He finished the cigarette and snuffed it out before leaning back and shutting his eyes._

_The decision on what to do with himself should Park one day decide not to return to North Korea or should he be prevented from doing so was very much future Jong Mu-taek’s problem. Who knows, maybe the businessman would want to come here in that instance. While the man was still a slimy capitalist through and through, he seemed increasingly weary of the South._

_Who knows._

_And it would be ridiculous to leave now with all the power he had accumulated over the day to day functioning of North Korea. One day perhaps a switch could be made in the realm of who led the revolution. If not, then they would just have to wait for the old man to die._

_That he would definitely do in Mu-taek’s lifetime._

_In the meantime, perhaps he would still have to consider coming up with a reason to follow Park to China so that, just once, he could fall asleep beside him too._

_Carefully he laid the sleeping businessman down on the bed, brushing a quick hand through his hair._

_“I’ve got to stop spending so much time with you,” he murmured. “You’re rubbing off on me.”_

_He let the man sleep then and went to go get dressed, his ass aching pleasantly with every step he took._

*******

Truth be told, Suk-young had been suspicious of his handler for a long time. From some of their dealings very early on to his priorities to the letter now, it was not entirely clear whose side the man was on.

Even then, it was every bit as pleasant as one might expect to be a spy in a dangerous and closed off nation and see your handler come out of the fucking elevator surrounded by high level officials from said dangerous nation. Suk-young only credited it to his many many years in the army and in intelligence that he managed to not immediately die of a heart attack and get the fuck out of there as quick as he could.

Then, in a total breach of protocol (he was not the one who started this shit), he used all of his covert spy equipment to figure out what the fuck his handler was up to.

It was also every bit as pleasant as one might expect to find out that your handler is an actual fucking traitor. A traitor that was going to undermine their entire mission for his own personal gain. Who had just planned the murder of innocent South Korean civilians to secure his grip on power for the foreseeable future.

A thousand things flashed through Suk-young’s mind, from his mission to his life to his ruined career, everything he had given up because this man asked him to do it for the good of their people. And he was just going to… _throw that away?_

Suk-young nearly vomited.

The spy confronted him later that day. It was an enormous risk, but he was _furious._

_I threw away my entire life for this mission. For Seoul. For South Korea. And you repay me with this?!_

He was essentially told to follow orders and go fuck himself, which was how he ended up on the street with Director Ri at ass o’clock at night spilling everything, both of them feeling utterly betrayed. Suk-young because he had just learned exactly how manufactured the strife between his country and this one was and how utterly played he had been, and Ri because his people were already suffering and dying at alarming rates and now even more of them would.

It felt good, telling the man everything. Over the past year and a half he had come to genuinely care for the North Korean economist with the subtle and dry sense of humor and the soft smiles. Perhaps the man had come to care for him too, Suk-young wondered, as he spoke of what he truly thought of the leaders of his homeland.

Out of spite, out of _sheer spite_ and pain and anger and despair, Suk-young turned to Ri in that damp tunnel. He turned to his friend and offered a plan.

“I’m a spy,” he said out loud, and the man already knew that after their entire conversation, but saying those words was so very final. He said them because he trusted the man and perhaps he would die for it, but he was always going to anyway. “Would you like to have one last adventure with me?”

Out of sheer spite, Ri agreed. Together, they plotted to bring down the whole operation.

It was only later when Suk-young fully realized what he had done.

He had known, of course, but he hadn’t thought about it, had been too angry. Too betrayed. But when a knock came on his door that night, it all suddenly clicked.

Jong Mu-taek had been in that room. Not only was he a part of that plan, the bastard, but he was also the top security officer in North Korea. When Director Ri and Suk-young revealed to the General the following day that 40 million US dollars had gone missing from the payment, he would take the fall for it. And taking the fall in North Korea meant…

_Oh God._

********

_Mu-taek was sick of this shit._

_He hated South Koreans, to be perfectly honest. As far as he was concerned, all of them save Park could stay south of the DMZ and rot. Slimy fucking capitalists. This one especially, Mu-taek could not stand._

_Director Ri reprimanded him for running his mouth, making a joke about nukes and saying what he really thought about their counterpart in South Korean politics and how that could never work because he was just too tall. He thought that was funny anyway, and saying it out loud send a thrill down his spine. If he was anyone else, he would have been shot for it._

_They approved the plan and the fucking capitalists chanted long live Kim Jong-Il, and Mu-taek was so sick of politics and all the garbage that went alone with it. At least he would get a decent cut of the 40,000 USD they skimmed off the top. If only he could buy food here with that money._

*******

 _I am going to betray you tomorrow_ , Suk-young thought as they kissed ferociously, spurred on not by the officer this time (Mu-taek, his name is Mu-taek, if you’re going to get him killed at least call him by his fucking name) but by Suk-young. Not boisterous businessman Suk-young, but soldier Suk-young, conflicted and desperate.

 _We were never on the same side,_ he told himself as he stripped the clothes from Mu-taek’s shoulders. _So it will not be betrayal. Just this game. This fucking spy game._

It sure as hell still felt like betrayal.

He would not lie and say he had anything in the way of warm feelings towards this pushy, arrogant, mistrusting North Korean soldier, nothing like what he increasingly found himself feeling for Director Ri, but neither did he hate him. Neither did he want to see him die.

They ended up as they often did now, with Mu-taek astride him and riding him roughly. Suk-young gripped bruises into his hips and fucked him hard as they kissed passionately, Mu-taek grinning the entire time.

Suk-young had no idea what possessed him to do it, especially with this particular victim of patriarchal, culturally-repressed masculinity, but he did it anyway. He pulled out in favor of flipping the other man onto his back with a quick push before climbing between his thighs and driving in hard and fast, taking all of the control. The officer barely had time to appear indignant before he was clutching at Suk-young’s shoulders and muffling moans in his throat, thighs tight around his waist.

_Oh how the tables have turned._

Both men came quickly, their fucking too harsh for them to stand any chance of lasting, Suk-young biting a bruise into the juncture of Mu-taek’s neck and shoulder and the officer’s nails gouging scratches down his back. The spy fucked him through it, riding out his aftershocks and savoring the feeling of the tight heat around him as his thrusts slowed. When he did eventually pull out, Mu-taek sighing softly as he did, it felt so very final.

Mu-taek stayed for a bit, offering Suk-young a cigarette which the businessman gratefully accepted. He wished, and not for the first time, that his character was not supposed to be sober as he found himself slumping more and more into the officer’s side for reasons he could not name. He needed a fucking drink.

“Don’t be sad,” Mu-taek chided him, the officer’s arm around his back, fingers tapping lightly on his hip. “It won’t be for long. The General is very pleased with your work. He’ll want to begin more projects with you soon, no doubt. And…” The officer leaned over, resting his head on top of Suk-young’s, where it rested on Mu-taek’s shoulder. “No doubt there will be some security risks with those projects. I’ll just have to come make your life difficult over them.Who knows, maybe those security risks will even warrant a visit to Beijing.” 

_Fuck this. Fuck this whole entire fucking terrible awful mission—_

Businessman Suk-young took over with a short laugh. “Careful, Mu-taek,” he teased as his heart ached. “If you do your job too well you might not get to see me again, digging up threats that aren’t there. The General might just decide I’m too much of a risk.”

The officer chuckled.

He kissed Suk-young before he left, long and deep as he sat on the bed next to him in his uniform, hat tucked under his arm.

“Until we meet again,” he said with a quick quirk of his lips when the kiss ended, affectionately placing his hat on top of Suk-young’s head. “Look at you,” he teased. “You would make a good North Korean soldier.”

Suk-young caught him by the tie and pulled him in for one last kiss because at his core he was a sentimental bastard, and a guilty one at that. The officer left then, plucking his hat from Suk-young’s head and pulling away, the tips of his fingers brushing lightly over Suk-young’s cheek as he did.

Park Suk-young had never been a religious man, but for this, he knew he was going to hell.

_I’m sorry, I’m so sorry..._

********

_Park Suk-young had been the last person Mu-taek was expecting to see when he walked in to brief the General, having been informed of dissenting opinions on the upcoming military action. What did the businessman have to do with this? Had he heard something?_

_…Had he gotten into trouble?_

_For a brief moment, Mu-taek felt his heart quicken, fearing what trouble the idiotic man could have stumbled upon that would have landed him here of all places._

_Mu-taek answered the question he was asked, stating that anyone who would dare oppose the strikes was clearly an anti-communist and a traitor._

_Then Park started arguing with him and Mu-taek almost died._

You _are the dissenting opinion?_

_Have you lost your goddamn mind?!_

_Director Ri spoke up with him and Mu-taek scrambled to keep up, warring between utter shock and confusion as well as bewilderment as to what had come over Ri to argue this and involve Park—_

_Then they killed him. Or they might as well have. They informed the General that someone was skimming. Embezzling. And the General turned to him and Mu-taek shivered under his gaze. He was slow to respond to the General’s questions. Everything was suddenly so very foggy and dampened, except for the businessman’s face._

You… _Of all people,_ you…

 _I was_ worried _for you and you…_

_Why?!_

_He could not stop himself from trembling, because even though they had nothing on him yet, the suspicion would be enough. He was chief security officer. This was his game. He continued to stare at Park, his heart completely and utterly shattered. The businessman stared right back at him, pain on his face and Mu-taek was so angry and so, so betrayed…_

_You’ve killed me..._

_I’m a dead man._

********

They did meet again very soon after that. The very next day in fact, in the General’s palace as he and Ri argued their point of view. Suk-young had not been expecting it to be Mu-taek the General called in to explain the other side. Oh how his heart _ached_.

The officer’s face was the perfect picture of impassivity, but Suk-young did not miss the slightest quirk of his eyebrows, clearly confused upon seeing Suk-young there. That look only grew as he and Ri presented their evidence of a missing 40 million won.

The General sided with them, quickly admonishing Director Ri before calling of Mu-taek’s military attack and all other operations save the advertising and antique trade business and ordering that the thieves be hunted down.

It would be the last time Suk-young would ever see Jong Mu-taek in person, but he would continue to see him nearly every night in his dreams.

He would never forget that look of utter betrayal and sheer terror on his face.

*******

_His wife was crying in the kitchen. He was surprised they even let him come home._

_Mu-taek had been upfront with her as soon as he walked in, saying I’m a dead man walking._

_That bastard, that piece of shit!_

_Earlier that day, the ache in him with each step had made him smile. Now it only made him sick. He had half a mind to pick up his pistol and shoot Park Suk-young point blank in the face on sight, but he would have no reason to do that save if_ he _was one of the people the investigation would find and he wasn’t guilty yet, maybe he could still get out of this…_

_The news broke late the following night._

_A spy. Park had been a fucking spy. A fucking…_

_He stormed out of his apartment with his pistol, ignoring his wife’s pleas to stay. Rage clouded his vision as he walked through the dark streets, breaking curfew but who the fuck cared. That didn’t matter now, nor did it matter if they caught him for embezzling, he would be shot for letting a fucking spy walk into Pyongyang and look the General in the face. The only thing he wanted now was to shoot Park Suk-young first._

_He didn’t make it. They caught him before he could get to the guesthouse. Later, beaten bloody, he learned that he was picked up not even for missing the spy, but because the spy had somehow managed to make it out of the country unnoticed._

_He expected to be shot, but that was too kind for someone who had committed as grave a transgression as him. Shoved into the back of a bus with fifty other men on his way to a labor camp to rot, Mu-taek was not ashamed to admit that he cried._

_So would you._

*******

It was ten years before Suk-young saw Ri again, in Seoul this time during a renewed push for cooperation between the North and the South. Suk-young had only looked for him in every North Korean’s face that he saw since the day he left. Ri still had that fucking fake watch, and Suk-young still had that tie clip. He wore it fucking everywhere, as if that would absolve him of his sins. Or perhaps secretly he had hoped he would come upon a moment like this, where they would meet again.

_Until we meet again._

The crowd moved off, but Ri and Suk-young did not follow them. Instead they walked towards each other, grinning like madmen. Later that evening, Suk-young slipped away to his hotel room. Ri managed to follow him.

Suk-young had no idea how long they stood there, wrapped up in each other’s arms as they laughed and cried.

“I thought I would never see you again.”

“I’m still the only one who understands capitalist economics.”

Suk-young had been waiting for this for a decade since that day in Ri’s apartment when he had gifted him with he tie clip and they had smiled over a drink. Suk-young, strung out on adrenaline and utterly shot nerves, had fallen in love with him then. He had fallen even more in love when Ri risked his own life to get him out.He had kissed him before he left, because he wanted to, because they were dead men walking, and Ri had told him that if it was fated, they would meet again. And here they were.

It had never felt so good to kiss someone.

 _Until we meet again,_ whispered an entirely different voice in Suk-young’s ear, an entirely different face meeting him when he pulled back, same as it had on any other male lover Suk-young had taken since he left that blasted place.

They spoke of many things, jammers and a white noise machine sitting on the table in front of them. It had been so very long after all.

Eventually, he got up the courage to ask the one question that had plagued him for years.

“Jong Mu-taek, the security officer.”

Ri gave a single nod of understanding.

“What happened to him?”

Ri sighed heavily. “Officially, he was reassigned to a security post in Russia.”

Suk-young’s soul bled. “And unofficially?”

“He was sent to a labor camp in the northeast.”

Suk-young blinked. “So he could still be alive?”

“That’s doubtful,” Ri replied honestly. “And even if he was, he would kill you without a second thought if he ever saw you again.”

Suk-young was silent for a long time.

Ri regarded him carefully. “You were involved with him.”

Park nodded. “How did you ever figure that one out?”

“I don’t know what the damn fool was thinking, jamming the signal in your hotel room nearly every night. Did he really think someone would not notice and wonder? Between that and the embezzling, he was well on his way to getting himself killed.”

“But we’re the ones who finally did it for him.”

Ri sighed. “Yes, we are.”

“We got a man killed.”

“We got several men killed.”

Suk-young shut his eyes. “It was necessary.”

“It was.”

“This _fucking_ game…”

“Yes.”

Suk-young buried his face in his hands. “I never thought very highly of him, if I’m being honest,” he murmured. “I was using him, using his good graces the same as he was using me for sex, but…” He grimaced. “But I did not hate him. I did not wish to see him die, to know that it was me who…”

“I understand.”

They spent the rest of the night in each other’s arms.

*******

Years later, when Suk-young was arrested and thrown in prison for violating every single piece of the National Security Law, he supposed it was only fair.

_**El Fin** _

**Author's Note:**

> Aaaaaand I made myself sad. I got so attached to my North Korean security boy while writing this, I almost want to indulge myself and write an alternate universe where he does manage to escape and defect...we'll see. 
> 
> Anyway, thank you so much for reading this! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Let me know what you think!


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